Imperius Lust
by LyssaBee
Summary: PRE DH. Under the Imperius curse Malfoy’s emotions, desires and orders become very mixed, and he flees to the only place he can be safe. He takes refuge in the most unlikely person and the outcome is scandalously attractive.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing! **

Every year, after students and Professors have finished their schooling year at Hogwarts, it's time for the school halls to become vacant and the summer holidays to begin. This year in particular, the summer holidays would be a particularly mournful affair.

Harry thought the sky looked too dull and grey for summer, and the grass seemed less vibrant and green. It was a very rare occasion to see people, Wizards – even Muggles smiling. From Harry's point of view, the world seemed defeated and solemn; nobody knew where it would go from here.

The mere and momentary glimpse of happiness that arose in Harry's world was not for a few weeks into his summer holidays. He received a letter – a short letter, but a letter at that.

_Sit tight; we're coming to get you tomorrow. Midday._

Harry saw no name on the letter, though only assumed and then finally concluded that it was the Weasleys. It was a relief to know that he could be with people that cared about him for the remainder of this dreary holiday.

Hermione was in a deep sleep, a sleep so heavy that when she began to wake, she prayed for more… until her senses got the better of her. Her eyes snapped open, and her body was overwhelmed with a heat of panic. Hermione lay on her side, rigid as a pole and completely breathless as she realized she'd never seen this wall before and certainly did not recognize this bedside table…although she did recognize her wand aloft. Hermione shot her hand out, snapped it up and then promptly sat upright. She gasped and quickly pointed her wand to the figure standing at the far wall.

An alluring silence prickled in the air.

"Tell me where I am Malfoy, or so help me god I will curse you to hell and back." Hermione's voice was strong, though it quivered slightly as she spoke.

"Good, you're alive. You can finally get out of my house."

Draco Malfoy was leaning casually against the far wall. He had a small smudge of dirt on his jaw, which was insignificant compared to the dried mud on his hands and clothing. Hermione noticed he supported a fresh cut vertically placed below his left eye, and for once in his life his robes looked more tattered than Ron Weasley's.

Hermione was well aware that she was among the company of a Death Eater and one of the many people responsible for the terrible death of Albus Dumbledore. She silently became angered as the grip around her wand became tighter.

"Where am I?" she uttered forcefully. Hermione scarcely peered around the room, silently marvelling at the high black marble ceiling and priceless arts and tapestries that were hung upon the walls, (most of which portrayed snakes.) "Am I at your house?" she wondered in a murmur. Malfoy merely raised his eyebrows in reply. Although she was more than seven yards from one of her most hated acquaintances and his rigid snare, she could clearly see that there was no wand in either of his hands. Hermione lowered her hand into her lap, yet kept a tight hold on her weapon. "Why am I here?"

Malfoy slumped into a large black leather chair, crossed his arms and narrowed his unreceptive eyes. "I'm not telling you why you're here. I was hoping you'd just get up and leave... As soon as you're gone I have to have my bed sheets burnt, so the sooner, the better."

Hermione frowned. "If you just tell me why I'm here I'll…I'll leave without thinking twice."

"Or I could just burn the sheets with you on them."

Hermione suddenly became angry and anxious, her nostrils flared and her mouth tightened as Professor McGonagall's frequently did. "_Malfoy_!" she yelled furiously as she went into a ramble. "If you woke up in my house on my bed, I'm sure you'd be _threatening_ me for an answer. You can't just merely sit there and tell me to leave your house! I don't even know where your house is, I don't know how to get home! For all I know you could have cursed me whilst I was sleeping and now I can't walk. You could've bought me here to kill me, or for a sick and twisted prank – "

"I did not bring you here for a _prank_." Malfoy's words were spat lucidly from his mouth as he rose from his chair and took his wand out of his robes. Hermione followed suit and did just the same. "Why would I bring you into my _home_ to play a prank on you? And if I did, I wouldn't prank you and then let you lay on my bed sheets."

"If you're so rattled about your bloody sheets why didn't you just heap me on the floor!" Hermione retorted.

"I did, but I figured it'd be easier to burn sheets than carpet."

Hermione threw her hands into the air in protest and let out a muffled growl. "You're so horrid! You make me so so – "

"I knew I shouldn't have bothered to help you," he snarled, edging closer with his wand. There was another silence starting to endure, which made both feel so very uncomfortable.

Hermione stared at his bleeding cut and Malfoy watched her dark eyes linger on his face. She looked at him nervously and asked, "Help me..? How did you help me?" She paused for a moment in slight dismay. "Why would a _Death Eater _possibly want to help _me_?"

As Malfoy's livid eyes levelled into a glare, a large crashing came from outside the entrance to his room. The sound of breaking glass uttered up the stairs and a booming ferocious voice echoed through out the Malfoy manor.

"_Draco Malfoy_!"

Malfoy's eyes widened in fright and his voice became quaky. "Quick, you have to go; he's going to kill me…" Malfoy ushered her towards his door. "No, you can't go out there he'll see you, he'll kill us both."

"What? Who will kill us? _Why_?" Malfoy was hurriedly pushing Hermione to the other side of the room, and was trying as hard as possible with a limp in his right leg. "Why are you trying to push me into your closet? _Malfoy_! _Answer_ me, who's going to kill you?"

Hermione was pushed so forcefully she hit her head on the back of the closet and fell to her backside. As she rubbed the new bruised lump on her skull and tried to level her uneasy eyes, the doors were slammed shut. She was left in complete darkness. It was a few uncomfortable minutes before Hermione could raise herself from the ground. She was about to barge through the closet doors when she heard distant doors open with a flamboyant smash and Malfoy utter a disgraceful beg.

"Father, _please_."

"You – _you_." Lucius Malfoy struggled for words, "you are a disgrace of a son." Hermione prodded the closet door open slightly so she could see. "DISGRACE!" Lucius yelled.

Malfoy stumbled back slightly and fidgeted with his grip around his wand, "Father…" he said breathlessly.

"Father _what_? Are you going to make excuses?" Lucius' pronunciation of S's was particularly venomous.

"I couldn't do it…I just – "

"_You__couldn't do it_?" Lucius' mouth wreathed with disgust. "I don't know what happened to your blood boy, but it certainly isn't _Malfoy_ blood." It was clear that Lucius Malfoy was becoming increasingly angered as a protruding vein in his neck had begun to shine blue. "If you are not going to bother following in my footsteps then I have no use for you, you can leave my house."

"I was just about to," said Malfoy calmly. His father surveyed him up and down. "The Ministry has already raided our house looking for me, they'll do it again soon enough." Malfoy's voice had become cool and relaxed; it was angering his father even more. "How did you get out of Azkaban anyway?"

"The Dark Lord helped his _faithful_ Death Eaters escape. Now thanks to you, he wants us both dead. I'd run as far as possible, boy. He gave you a second chance and you blew it just as the first. This task wasn't even strenuous; all you had to do was kill that filthy Mudblood!"

Hermione gasped in the dark cupboard. Lucius looked behind himself conspicuously.

Malfoy pressed on in conversation. "I couldn't do it!" he expressed truthfully. "She -"

"She _what_?" Lucius mocked his son's ridiculous excuses. "If you can't kill even a Muggle-born then you are worthless to the Dark Lord. You are not worthy of that branding on your arm and you're certainly not worthy of being my son."

It was hard to tell if Malfoy took these words harshly at all, for his face was steely and contorted in the usual manner. Then all of a sudden, a flicker of compassion graced his expression. "What about Mother, does she still think of me as herson?"

Lucius sneered. "I'm sure she doesn't think very much of you, Draco." Lucius took no notice in Malfoy's rising anger – white knuckles and shaking fists, he simply preceded conversation in his usual manner. "I want you to leave. Now."

Father and son stared maliciously at each other, then Malfoy voiced, "I have to get my -"

"Quick," hissed Lucius.

Malfoy turned on his heel unsteadily and moved towards a tall chest of drawers. Just as he came to a halt, he darted around with his wand raised and ejected, "Expellia-"

"CRUCIO!"

Hermione shuffled her feet uncertainly as Malfoy fell to the floor. He squirmed in pain erratically, trying to fight off the curse. 'Should I help?' thought Hermione hurriedly. 'He did try to kill me…but he saved me. But I despise him – I can't watch.' As Hermione argued with herself, she unconsciously stumbled out of the closet and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Lucius Malfoy's eyes were wide in shock as his body became rigid and fell to the ground. Hermione recited a couple of rope binding curses as well - just in case.

Malfoy struggled to stand from where he was lying in a heap on the floor. He looked even more tattered and weary than before. He stared down at Hermione once he was standing up right. "Petrificus Totalus?" he asked sardonically. "You're the smartest witch at Hogwarts and you used a binding curse? Why didn't you just kill him? Or turn him into a squirrel or something?"

"I'm not going to kill your father!"

"Well neither am I." Malfoy pointed his wand at his school trunk, which shot open ready for the stream of objects and belongings flying from each corner of the room. The trunk slammed shut. "I'm leaving."

"Good," agreed Hermione. "I need to leave; everyone will be so worried about me."

"Good. You do that." Malfoy was already making his way towards the door with his trunk floating weightlessly behind him.

"But, how am I supposed to get home?" asked Hermione urgently.

Malfoy turned his head brusquely, with a familiar look. Hermione recognized this repulsive snare from six years of torments or name-calling. "I don't –"

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione and Malfoy turned to find Lucius standing freely with no ropes in sight, wand pointed dangerously, and the most malicious snarl to ever grace one's face.

Hermione's wand went flying, however Malfoy was too impulsive and had held onto his tightly. He and his wand both went flying out of the door and flopped heavily onto the landing. Lucius rounded on the cowering Muggle-born standing in the corner. "I can't believe it," he jeered. "Draco bought the Mudblood home. Did he feed and bathe you too?" he mocked.

Hermione looked searchingly around the room for the whereabouts of her wand. Just as she found it, Lucius Malfoy stumbled back as his robes caught fire. Malfoy was standing in the doorway, pointing his wand at his father, setting fires in all sorts of odd places. Hermione grabbed her wand as hastily as she could and ran through the doorway past Malfoy who was cackling noxiously. She shot down the long reign of black stairs aimlessly running until she was as far away as possible. Taking a right she found a large, high-ceiling room – darkly decorated and covered in evil memorabilia. Stumbling to the fireplace she searched every draw, urn, cup and pot for Floo powder. When she thought there was nothing left to search, she discovered a large black pot on the ground. Lifting the lid she found gallons and gallons of the fine dust.

Just as she magically lit the fire and launched the powder into the flames she heard an ear-splitting shout. "_IMPERIO_!" With one last look back, Hermione hopped into the fire. "_The Burrow_!"


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

The Burrow had been magically secured and made undiscoverable for both Harry and the Weasley's security. The Ministry had regarded it of high importance to keep Harry as safe as possible. The Burrow was now almost as safe as Hogwarts. The only means of finding the Weasleys' invisible house was by standing in front of a particular tree in the garden, reciting a confidential word, and then walking through the trunk into the familiar Weasley kitchen. Harry had arrived at that tree almost two days ago. He thought it would be an eventful affair, or at least momentarily take his mind off all the chaos in the Wizarding World, however, things became worse. The Weasleys and Harry were forced into mourning once again.

The Weasleys had tricked Harry and had arrived at the Dursleys' at dawn - rather than midday.

"To fool them, dear," said Mrs Weasley.

"Who?"

"Oh, you know. We have to take extra precautions. We can't take any chances."

As Harry slid into the invisible car, he expected to only see Ron, however, there were two members of the Order of Phoenix: Remus Lupin and Tonks. They both bid him a weary good morning and gave him an uneasy smile. Harry noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the front driving the car — just like a Muggle.

As the car began to move, Harry looked to Ron. He was so pale his freckles had disappeared, and he was pursing his lips as though he could bring up his food at any moment.

"Ron," Harry asked uneasily, "Are you okay?"

Ron looked down into his lap and sighed. "Harry," he paused for quite a long time. Lupin looked at his wand momentarily and Tonks looked away altogether. "Hermione's gone missing."

Harry froze uncomfortably as panic arose in his chest. "What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean no one knows where she is. She was meant to arrive at The Burrow yesterday but…she didn't."

Harry began to get quietly frantic. After losing Sirius and then Dumbledore, he couldn't bear to lose one more friend. He was suddenly overcome with the fear that he may end up completely alone, for everyone he ever truly cared for or loved may be taken from him. "How was she travelling?" he asked urgently.

"Floo powder…"

Harry became angered. "Why did you let her travel by the Floo network! It's just as dangerous for Hermione to travel by Floo powder as it is for me —"

"Harry," interjected Lupin, "she insisted —"

"Since when do the Order listen to us when we insist!"

"Harry, it's no use arguing about how she came to disappear," settled Lupin. "We should concentrate on finding Hermione instead."

"Well," said Harry irritably. "Who's doing something about it?"

"The ministry is looking into it, retracing her steps and checking every single grate from Hermione's house to The Burrow."

"That'll take forever!"

"I know, Harry, it's a slow and long process, so we're going have to sit back and wait."

"I don't want to sit and wait!" protested Harry.

Ron looked at Harry hopelessly, not bothering to say anything. Harry could read from his expression how upset he was. He knew Ron was also angry, however for him, the gloominess and heartbreak overcame that. Ron merely sighed once again and took to looking out the window at the moving objects, just as Tonks was doing. Harry followed suit and did the same. No one spoke again until they arrived at their destination.

Mrs Weasley, Harry and Ron bid goodbye to Tonks and Lupin once they reached The Burrow. All three stepped inside gravely. Harry knew what was coming. It was an automatic assumption that he would feel utter exhilaration whilst at the Weasleys' - for they had mounds of Mrs Weasley's amazing cooking, and Quidditch matches in the backyard, and Harry had the pleasure of spending time with Ginny. However, this year he felt completely opposite. His heart caved at the thought of Ginny, and the fact that Hermione wasn't there to greet him made it even worse.

"I'll fix you some hot chocolate, dears," said Mrs Weasley kindly as Harry and Ron slumped into seats at the kitchen table. A long silence prevailed, so she spoke once more, trying to provoke conversation. "They'll find her, you know. Your father has taken personal consideration of this assignment — he's very determined."

"But what if they don't," muttered Ron. "After all, people disappear off the face of the earth all the time."

"Don't worry," urged Mrs Weasley as she placed two large mugs on the table.

"We have to do something," voiced Harry. "We can't just sit here."

"What can we do that the Order isn't already doing?" questioned Ron solemnly.

Ron continued to drone about how nothing would come of searching for Hermione, and that it was the most horrible summer. Harry, however, was especially preoccupied as he noticed Ginny walk into the kitchen. He smirked faintly at the pink that arose in her cheeks. Ginny smiled in return and took a seat next to Harry; as she did so, she lowered her hand, and took Harry's in hers. Interlacing their fingers, they both grinned silently at each other.

Hermione was spinning so fast she felt slightly queasy. She hoped with all her heart that she wouldn't get stuck at the other end, for The Burrow was only open a mere twenty minutes to let her through. After what felt like forever, she landed in a heap in an unfamiliar surrounding. In fact, every inch around her consisted of the same dark grey. She felt like she was stuck in a box, a very small box at that. Hermione began to panic. Her breath became tense and shortened, and tears swelled in her eyes. Just as she had pulled her wand out to attempt to blast her way through, Hermione fell forwards onto what she eventually found to be the familiar Weasley floor. She pulled herself up vertically and looked in the nearby mirror, brushing off the soot from her nose. Her heart became elated as she heard the welcoming voices she longed for, and walking a few steps, she saw the faces that matched them.

"Hello," she said cheerily, as she walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table next to Ron.

The whole kitchen had frozen in mid conversation. Mrs. Weasley was in the midst of hurriedly cooking bacon, whilst scouring pots with her wand. Fred and George were sitting opposite Harry and Ginny, explaining their new amazing inventions, whilst Ron had his head in his hands, staring half-heartedly at the wooden table.

Everyone turned to gape at Hermione when she entered the room. Ron's elbow slipped off the table and his eyes widened. "Hermione!" he exclaimed-- and then shut his mouth quickly, just in case his excitement slipped out once again.

Mrs Weasley brusquely waddled to Hermione and tightly draped her arms around her neck. "Oh, _Hermione!_ Are you _okay? Where've you been?_" The whole kitchen gazed silently at Hermione.

"Erm…" Hermione couldn't possibly tell them where she'd been. It would worry and frighten them. It frightened_ her_ to know that she had been in the presence of Draco Malfoy - whilst unconscious. She had been in the company of_ two_ Death Eaters. What if Malfoy had done something to her? What if she was completely terrible at magic now? Or her hair fell out tomorrow? 'Perhaps this is only a story for Ginny's ears…' she thought.

"I was…I think I came out the wrong grate. I have no clue where I was, but I couldn't get back."

"Why couldn't you get back for three days?" quizzed Harry impatiently.

Hermione felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as she struggled to find lies. "I think I was unconscious for a while…"

"At least you're safe now!" uttered Mrs Weasley vicariously. "Your belongings arrived just before you were supposed to; they're upstairs in Ginny's room. Go have a lay down, dear." She nudged Hermione slightly. "Go on," she pressured. "I have to send Arthur an Owl; he's been working non-stop trying to find you for the past three days!"

Hermione willingly left the room, grateful that she didn't have to answer silly questions at the present moment. Ginny followed her upstairs, though she admittedly would've preferred to be by herself. After a few short words, Ginny understood that Hermione would prefer to be alone, and resorted back to the kitchen once again.

"I think there's something wrong with her," she told Harry and Ron — Fred and George were discussing the pricing of their new 'Sing me a song Sweets.' "She's not acting like herself."

"Maybe it's not Hermione," pointed Harry. "Maybe it's someone disguised as Hermione."

"No, it's definitely her," said Ron. He was trying to fight back a slight smile. "I can tell."

"I think we just need to let her have some space for a couple of days," said Ginny earnestly. "She can have my whole room if she likes, you know, for extra space. I'll sleep in Harry's bed."

"No, you bloody will not!" snapped Ron, as Ginny giggled mischievously.


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

Malfoy awoke with a short sharp pain in his right arm. As soon as the pain faded, the rest of his senses began to awake. He could feel the blood dripping down his elbow, creating a warm puddle in his sleeve. The soft carpet caressed his cheek as he raised his head slightly, and he could feel his robes muddled around his legs. The blonde-haired boy rolled over onto his back to look at the ceiling; it took him a very long moment for his vision to become accurate. The taste of blood in his mouth was overwhelming and made him crease his nose with disgust.

He was so sure his father would kill him. Why didn't he? After disobeying the Dark Lord, saving the Mudblood and taking her home. '_Saving_!' Malfoy scoffed at himself. 'I didn't save her…I merely moved her out the way of destruction.'

What had Malfoy become? A fearful child – that's what. His father was right, if he wasn't able to kill a worthless Muggle-born, he was of no use to the Dark Lord. 'But to kill Albus Dumbledore,' he thought, 'that was an unfair task. How was I supposed to kill the greatest Wizard of all time?' Malfoy quickly corrected himself in calling Albus Dumbledore 'the greatest Wizard of all time,' and repeatedly assured himself that Lord Voldemort was, in fact, the greatest Wizard.

"You check upstairs, Kingsley, I'll have a look down here."

Malfoy bolted upright; his arm gave a quick jab of pain as he did so. There were voices, people in his house. Hurrying to his feet Malfoy frantically limped around the room collecting any last belongings. He looked out of his door, wanting to run down the stairs as fast as he could, however he could see a man approaching the first step. Turning swiftly, he lifted his trunk weightlessly and ran to his window.

Hopping onto the slight balcony, Malfoy looked over the edge. He cursed his father and his protective charms. Unfortunately, like Hogwarts, no one was able to Apparate or Disapparate within the estate. Looking down, the three stories looked so very far to the ground. 'Broom!' Malfoy thought cleverly.

Uneasily, Malfoy swung his pain-stricken leg over his broom and then bound his trunk in magic-made ropes. Just as he grasped the end of the thick rope with his blood-stained and muddy palm, Malfoy heard a voice, "_Stupefy_!"

Malfoy kicked off the ground just in time to dodge the jet of light that went soaring into the bright blue sky.

"Arthur, he's up here, he's getting away on his broom," yelled the tall dark man.

Malfoy was speeding on his broom so fast that everything was a long colourful blur. He slowed down to steal a quick glimpse from behind. As he did so, Malfoy sighed heavily; he wondered how long it would be until he would see his mansion again. He had no family left to keep him safe, and all his friends were serving the Dark Lord. He'd be a complete fool to go anywhere that would put him in danger. But where would he go? Not even Malfoy knew. For three days, he flew aimlessly through the sky, through sunshine and moonlight until a genius idea came to mind – well at least Malfoy thought so.

"Just do it."

"No I don't want to."

"Ron! Just do it."

"I'll do it later – "

"Do it now!"

Harry and Ron were quarrelling all the way up the Weasley stairs. Harry had won though. He pushed Ron into Hermione and Ginny's room with the last word. Now Ron had to ask Hermione out, he couldn't just stand there like an idiot – although Harry was almost certain he would.

"H – Hi Hermione," Ron's voice broke as he spoke, and he flushed the colour of Luna Lovegood's radish earrings. Ginny and Hermione were sitting on the floor whispering rather secretly as Crookshanks tried batting his paws at Ginny's little Pygmy Puff.

"Go away, Ron," said Ginny rudely.

"I want to talk to Hermione! You go away."

Ginny looked from Ron to Hermione, who gave a shy smile. "I'll talk to you afterwards," she told Ginny.

After Ginny had exited, Ron looked wearily at Hermione. He looked to the floor repeatedly, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat at least five times. "Um, I was," he spoke clumsily.

Hermione smiled simply and said, "Why are you standing all the way over there?"

"Oh you know – it's alright, I like it over here."

"Okay," Hermione stroked Crookshanks absent-mindedly.

"Hermione," he began, "do you," he continued slowly, "want to…go out sometime, get some ice-cream, you know, whenever. I'm not too fussed. If you don't want to at all that's fine, you know." Ron stopped rambling and stared slightly wide-eyed at Hermione. He watched her as if watching in slow motion; it felt like ten long minutes before Hermione said, "Okay Ron. I'd like that."

"Oh that's alright, I don't mind -" Ron paused and looked quizzically at Hermione as she approached and kissed him on his pink cheek.

"I said that's fine, Ron. I'd like that. As long as I don't have to call you Won-Won," she mocked. And with that Hermione exited, smirking as she heard Ron's enthusiastic '_Woop_!' behind her.

Unfortunately, as everyone had silently realised, it was the familiar day when students would receive their Hogwarts letters informing them of the start to the new schooling year. This year however, the day didn't feel so familiar; it felt different. It bought back the foreboding feeling that originated when they left Hogwarts only mere months ago.

Hermione was only descending the stairs as Mrs Weasley's voice rung through the air. "Hogwarts letters!"

_Dear Miss Granger, _read Hermione.

_I am pleased to award you the position of Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

Scanning through the letter, she found the end very legibly signed:

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

"I guess school isn't cancelled after all," said Ron glumly.

"Not if Professor McGonagall has anything to do with it," replied Hermione. Although she was no where near as excited as she should've been for achieving Head Girl, she was slightly inspired by Professor McGonagall taking the role of governing the school. Whether or not Hermione would be returning to Hogwarts was a completely different matter, and unfortunately, depended on two other people.

Ron and Hermione were now both looking at Harry. He was staring down at his letter, now apparently reading over his book list. He looked up and raised his eyebrows over his round glasses. "What?"

"Are we going to back to Hogwarts?" asked Hermione eagerly.

Harry nodded at the sight of Hermione's smile and sound of Ron's prolonged sigh. "I'm going to have to spend quite a bit of time in the library for at least the first month or two. I don't really know where else to start."

Ron stared quizzically. "No really," he asked. "Why're we going back?"

Harry took a very long paused which included a gulp of his pumpkin juice, before he admitted he had an inkling there was a Horcrux at Hogwarts.

"Don't worry Harry, we'll help you find it," assured Hermione.

"I don't think you'll have much time, being Head Girl and all, you know," said Harry.

"How did you know?"

Harry smiled mischievously. "An obvious guess."

Ron, Harry and Ginny congratulated Hermione as she gave a slight giggle. With the Head Girl title intact, hopefully this year wouldn't be as dreadful as first thought.

"I think I'll sit this one out."

Ginny forfeit the chance to play Quidditch with Harry and Ron so she could get the much deserved and prolonged chat with Hermione.

"So, let me know then," said Ginny as she crossed her legs on the green grass.

"How do you know I'm going to let you know anything?"

"Because you've been so secretive since you arrived here that you must be bursting to tell someone!"

"I'm not _bursting_."

"You're a girl, you _must_ be bursting. Anyway, now you've let slip you really do have something to tell me." Ginny flipped her fiery red hair over her shoulders, as though to clear the sound passage for her ears. "Go on."

Hermione sighed as she fiddled with the grass beneath her, pulling it out by the roots. She looked up suddenly, and said in a hushed voice, "I was at Malfoy's mansion."

Ginny stared disbelievingly at Hermione and her porcelain perfect face contorted into a look of disgust that graced her face only once in a blue moon. "_Why?_"

Hermione was ignorant in thinking that this would actually an easy conversation. "I think he was supposed to kill me, on Voldemort's orders. Well I don't think - I know."

"We have to tell Harry," Ginny said seriously.

"We don't have to tell Harry anything!" pressed Hermione.

Ginny looked abashed. "Okay fine, but I really think you should." Hermione ignored Ginny's input and continued to pull grass from the roots. "So you're finally dating my brother," said Ginny, trying to provoke the conversation on. The girls both sniggered lightly as Hermione stole a sideways glance at Ron trying to block a Quaffle by hanging upside down. Unfortunately it ended in a bloody nose and a matching red-tinged face. Hermione, however, felt her heart flutter as she watched his sheepish smile.

The next day was the first time Mr Weasley had been home since Hermione had arrived. According to Mrs Weasley he was sleeping at the Ministry - for no more than four hours a night. Sometimes he didn't sleep at all, and when he did, it was regularly interrupted.

After a well-deserved rest, Mr Weasley treaded down the stairs in his nightgown just in time for breakfast. Harry was talking rapidly with Ginny, Hermione was peering down at the Daily Prophet, and Ron was staring avidly at Hermione.

"Morning everyone," chimed Mr Weasley. Before anyone even uttered a syllable he continued with an intriguing thought that had been bothering him for days. "Good to have you back, Hermione." Hermione pursed her lips and smiled over her newspaper. "I received a very odd piece of information about you the other day."

Hermione lowered her Prophet. "About _me_?"

Mr Weasley nodded his weary head, "An Auror that was guarding the Malfoy Floo grate identified you."

"_How_?" Hermione didn't even think of denying that it may, in fact, not have been her. She realised it was too late to change her answer when Harry and Ron both said, "_What_?" in unison. Hermione darted her dark eyes towards Ginny, she could see her bite her lip conspicuously and then continue eating her porridge.

"I suspected it was you he had described," noted Mr Weasley proudly as he began cutting his bacon. "Also," he noted, "you did come out of our Floo grate in the end, so I had no reason to suspect otherwise. Lucky," he continued, as he pointed casually with his bacon strewn fork. "Lucky I was watching the grates. I ordered The Burrow to be opened immediately. I suppose you were stuck for a moment there weren't you? Awful places to get stuck…"

"Why were you at Malfoy's?" questioned Ron. "What for?"

"Is he still there?" asked Harry urgently.

"No, no," said Mr Weasley, "he escaped on his broom as Kingsley and I were searching –"

"You let him escape?" blurted Harry.

Mr Weasley looked rather appalled. "I didn't let him escape, Harry."

"But he's a Death Eater! You've just let him run away!"

"Harry," warned Hermione. Harry was being particularly rude, however Hermione also knew different to what he suspected. She knew perfectly well that Malfoy didn't want to be associated with the Death Eaters because he couldn't bring himself to kill. 'Kill _me_…' she thought scarcely. Hermione had just then woken up to the concept and was suddenly very unnerved. 'A Slytherin, not just a Slytherin, but Draco Malfoy not able to kill? It was stupid and preposterous.' Hermione uttered a small laugh that bought her back to reality. Everyone at the table was staring ardently in her direction.

"Hermione, you still haven't answered me," pressed Ron. "Why were you at Malfoy's?" Hermione noticed he spoke Malfoy's name spitefully, as though he was too good to speak such a name.

"I didn't know," she lied quietly.

"How couldn't you _know_? You used his fireplace. Didn't you see the Malfoy family portraits hanging on all the walls?"

Ron's unattractive sarcasm made Hermione heated. "I didn't know, Ron. _Okay_?" she snapped.

Everyone in the kitchen went back to their own business as Hermione stormed off from the table, leaving an air of frustration behind.

Ron was pacing his small bright orange room back and forth repeatedly. "Why didn't she tell us, Harry?"

"I don't know, Ron," he said solemnly. "I can't believe your dad let Malfoy get away."

"I wish he'd have killed him right there and then. He doesn't deserve to live."

The two boys were acidly fuming. Every expression of anger they uttered became worse and worse. It seemed that Ron's spite mixed with Harry's anger made both their moods continuously more severe.

It didn't seem to do much help when Ginny came to talk to them, "Hermione's upset, you know."

"Who cares," said Ron stubbornly.

"Ron, that's horrible. You should go apologise to her."

"I should not. She's the one who's keeping secrets from Harry and I. And me in particular," he fumed, "her boyfriend!"

"You don't act like much of a boyfriend, Ron!" argued Ginny. "Hug Hermione once in a while, spend time with her and kiss her. She's not going to just fall into your arms when you want. You have to put in some effort, and grow up!"

"This coming from a sixteen-year-old," said Ron harshly.

"This is what I mean, Ron, such immaturity," she told him tirelessly. "You're of age now. Grow up."

Ginny exited sadly once she found that Ron had nothing to say in return. Unwillingly wanting to abide by his sisters judgement, Ron dawdled in his room for several minutes before he came to the conclusion that Ginny was indeed right.

He made his way to Hermione, where she was sitting lonely on Ginny's bed reading a new schoolbook. Ron sat by her side and took her hand in his. He turned and smiled slightly and then kissed her softly on her pink lips. Hermione returned a broader smile, and they both sat quietly enjoying each other's company. They both knew at that moment that everything else to come in the future could only get better than this…


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

It was the day before the students returned to Hogwarts, and the day after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Mrs. Weasley was in bouts of tears because her eldest child was finally married; her emotions seemed to be all over the place. The fact that two of her children were going back to Hogwarts tomorrow didn't seem to help at all.

"You must promise not to get into any immediate danger, you four," she stressed.

"Mum, three of us are of age now," argued Ron.

"I don't care," fussed Mrs. Weasley. "We all know this year is going to be a terrible time for everyone, and for The Order in particular. Your father and I don't need you creating any more trouble and worry."

"Okay, mum," droned Ron.

"And Harry," begged Mrs. Weasley, "please try to keep safe."

Harry smiled in return.

The time came when everyone was to travel to King's Cross Station. Strangely, the whole house was awake early, and most were organized; Ron was the last to pack his trunk after finally finding all his belongings. Arriving twenty minutes early, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley bid farewell to Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, and then left them to board the Hogwarts Express by themselves – with Lupin watching inconspicuously on the platform.

Hermione looked out the window once the four of them had found an empty carriage. There were at least half as many students as there had been in previous years, and most seemed to be familiar faces rather than first years. Several people were finding it hard to say goodbye to their parents, and were openly begging them not to make them go. Many were reduced to tears.

"For God's sake!" said Hermione irritably. "I don't understand why they're making them go the Hogwarts if they don't want to."

"Hogwarts is the safest place, even without Dumbledore," voiced Harry. "Though I wouldn't blame anyone if they wanted to stay with their family at a time like this…" Harry's voice trailed off unsteadily.

"I don't know, Harry, I'm pretty happy to finally be away from Mum," admitted Ron. "And Slytherins!" Ron suddenly became very excited. "I haven't seen even twenty Slytherins -"

Hermione couldn't help but think about Draco Malfoy. "Well," she uttered as she stood up abruptly. "I have to go to the front of the train to meet the Head Boy." She hurried out the carriage leaving behind an air of speculation.

The arrival at Hogwarts was still, silent, and solemn. All the way to the Entrance Hall there was only a mere hushed whisper throughout the black-clad crowd. The feast was a little louder, yet the noise in the hall didn't compare to the past years'; there were fewer Slytherins - more than half the table was gone, and a considerable amount of Hufflepuffs were also missing. The first years were only half in numbers, which made the Sorting Ceremony quite short. In the end, the feast wasn't too enthralling. Two new teachers were introduced in replacement of Professor Snape and Professor Slughorn, and Professor McGonagall ended with informing the school of the usual restrictions.

As the students filed out of the hall to their dormitories, Ron caught up with Hermione in the midst of it. She had managed to escape from the Gryffindor table without so much as a glance in Ron's direction. "Hermione!" he called.

"Hi Ron."

Ron took her hand in his. "You didn't speak much during the feast."

"I'm a bit…upset," she confessed. "It's strange being back here. There's so much suspense among the students and we've only been back a couple of hours."

"Don't be upset, Hermione." Ron squeezed her hand. "We'll be fine here this year."

"No, we won't," mumbled Hermione. "Not without Dumbledore…"

Arriving at the Portrait Hole, Hermione turned towards Ron and smiled slightly. "I'll be on a different floor this year," she told him.

"Why?"

"Head Boy and Girl get separate dormitories from everyone."

"Why?" asked Ron once again.

"Privileges," Hermione said with a smirk.

Ron began to look very frightened - as though he had seen a giant spider. "Well – well, who's Head Boy?"

Hermione's smirk remained. "Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"That oaf?" blurted Ron. "Ridiculous." Hermione laughed slightly at Ron's jealousy. "Well, can I come visit you?"

"Only if you can figure out which floor I'm on," laughed Hermione. Ron looked rather crest-fallen. "I'll just have to come visit you," she told him.

Hermione kissed Ron briefly, causing Lavender Brown to "Humph!" as she pushed past them into the Portrait Hole.

Hermione's new dormitory she found to be very impressive; it was nested behind a creaky set of armour that slid to its left at the mention of the password. The hidden room somewhat resembled a very small Gryffindor common room, yet the walls were decorated with neutral colours and two long wall banners, one depicting Gryffindor, another Hufflepuff.

Stepping up the ascending stairs and through the doorway, Hermione marvelled at the fine details of her gold bed railings, the shiny wooden floor, and the soft rug fabricated in Gryffindor colours. Hermione was in particular awe of her bed; it was twice as large as the usual dormitory beds, and it looked ten times more inviting.

Thankfully, the room was pleasantly big enough for one person, yet small enough to keep Hermione from getting lonely. She was in utter delight thinking about the frosty days she could spend in her lone dormitory by her warm fire with a good book.

Trailing to her trunk at the foot of her bed, Hermione began to unpack her generous share of books that occupied at least half of her trunk. Excitedly, she began to place them on the appropriate bookshelf in the far corner of her room. Just as she went to place her last book on the top shelf, two hands laid on hers and a figure pressed into her from behind. Hermione scarcely caught her breath and froze. A heat of panic engulfed her body as she stared at the hand on hers. It was a hand she didn't recognize. The newly surrounding scent was also a fragrance she wasn't familiar with. She couldn't even put a name to the scent for it was excruciatingly foreboding and indescribable; it made her feel even more insecure.

Warm breaths brushed past the small hairs on the nape of her neck, and the sense of the foreboding stranger became even more menacing . "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." Hermione wanted to turn around. Although this stranger wasn't holding her there harshly, she still felt that it would be a lost cause trying to turn her body.

Reminiscing the voice that was still buoyant in the air, Hermione became even more anxious. Deciding hurriedly that this would be one of the very few occasions that she didn't listen to her head, Hermione whipped around out of the stranger's grip and gasped, lightly falling against the bookshelf. 


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

"Ma –"

Draco Malfoy placed his hand over Hermione's mouth, muting her of all words. He turned her around once more and pushed her into the bookcase roughly so the books shuttered in their places. "I told you I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered into her ear.

Hermione could feel portions of his body so violently close to hers; his chest was keenly draped over her shoulders so she could feel the structure of his ribs, and his hands were rigid around both her wrists. She could feel the point from his raised knee below her buttocks, and the lurid warmth from his groin in her back.

Hermione spoke urgently through Malfoy's hand, however, she couldn't be heard. Malfoy removed the muffle. "Yes?"

"Don't hurt me, Malfoy," she said severely.

"I clearly said I wasn't going to."

Hermione forced herself out of Malfoy's grip, twisting and turning until he voluntarily let her go. Stepping back slightly, he pulled out his wand.

"What are you doing here?" asked Hermione urgently with her wand raised squarely at Malfoy's eye. "Out of all the places," she said, "what an awful choice. You'll be found in no time."

"No," he said simply.

"What do you mean no?" she asked. "As soon as I tell – "

"If I did let you scamper off to tell Potty or Weasel, or one of your beloved Professors, I'd be gone without a trace. You'd sound insane."

Hermione pondered on the idea for a moment. "After everything that happened last year, _someone_ will take it seriously. Every single person in this castle is on edge. I'm sure students would be sent straight home on the Hogwarts Express at the very _mention_ that a Death Eater may be in their presence."

"You may be right, you may be wrong," he said lazily as he swung his wand round irrespectively. "I don't care. If you're insensitive enough to reveal my hiding, then so be it."

"Only if you're insensitive enough to maliciously break Harry's nose, attempt to kill Katie Bell and plot the death of Dumbledore – oh wait," said Hermione sarcastically, "it seems you've already done those unforgivable things. I don't think you stand a chance."

Hermione tried to walk past Malfoy, however, he stood in her way, overwhelmingly tall and foreboding. "Wait," he said hurriedly. "All I need of you is to tell me how to get food from the kitchens, that's all."

"_Food_?" Hermione scoffed. "You want me to tell you how to get to the kitchens?" She squared in on Malfoy. Her wand was raised in line with her eyebrows, yet it was only high enough to reach Malfoy's neck. She prodded it into his oesophagus sternly, making him inhale sharply. "Out of all the places you could hide in this castle – of all the people you could be associating yourself with at this moment, you chose me, 'a filthy Mudblood,' and someone who is associated with Harry Potter." Hermione was absurdly angry. She was angry at the mere thought of Malfoy, let alone the true person before her. His repugnant smug smirk and his pale peroxide hair was a trademark for automatic resentment in Hermione's books. "_Why_ me?" she asked him viciously, lowering her wand to the centre of his chest. There was absolutely nothing stopping her from cursing him right there and then. Red sparks shot out her wand at the simple thought.

"The amount of Gryffindors I've seen with armfuls of food after Quidditch matches - one of you must know."

"That doesn't explain why you're pestering _me_ about it."

Malfoy lost his temper and pushed Hermione into the bookcase. Her wand unsteadily dropped from her fingertips and the power was in Malfoy's hands. "Just tell me how to get to the kitchens, Mudblood, that's it!" Malfoy said simply.

Hermione could tell Malfoy was becoming lethal. His wand was firmly gripped in a fist, and Hermione was unprotected. 'How did you even get in here?" she asked quietly.

"I followed you, how do you think?" he sneered.

It took quite a while for Hermione to decide what to do. She was hoping with all her might that Justin would come knocking at her dormitory door, or even just barge in. After a couple of minutes of receiving a penetrative stare from Malfoy, Hermione eventually gave in. "Door on the right of the main staircase in the Entrance Hall," she told him. "Tickle the pear in the painting and a handle will appear."

"Good Granger," chimed Malfoy noxiously. And with that he left.

Hermione was left sitting on her bed wondering how Malfoy could have possibly entered the castle and not have been caught yet. If he was stupid enough to be walking freely around Hogwarts then perhaps someone would spot him - hopefully it would be Harry, or even Ron.

"You look very tired, Hermione." Ginny was poking her porridge with her spoon as she watched Hermione flop down at the Gryffindor table. "Didn't you sleep very well?"

"Oh you know, took a while to get used to being alone in such a large bed…"

Ginny passed her some pumpkin juice. "Why don't you ask Ron to sleep with you?"

"Ginny!" said Hermione scandalously.

"Hermione, we're not in the sixteenth century."

"But I shouldn't have to ask him," laughed Hermione.

Hermione and Ginny were still giggling as Ron and Harry came to sit down; Neville was following shortly behind. Ron kissed Hermione on the cheek and Neville said 'Hullo', Harry, however, quietly ate his breakfast. Ginny soon left after receiving her timetable.

Hermione usually felt exhilarated at the first breakfast of the school year, however this year, she couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive. She was nervous in thinking about what would come of Harry and the Wizarding World, but she also couldn't help but be excited at the idea of finally being back at Hogwarts.

Truthfully, Hermione was stressed about Malfoy. She knew she had to tell someone, but she didn't know who. She wanted Harry to concentrate on the Horcruxes, and admittedly, Ron was no use at all. Perhaps McGonagall would be the correct choice.

Hermione decided to get approval from Ginny first of all, but unfortunately she couldn't locate her nor Harry all night. Not wanting to be around Ron and his ridiculous attempts to hold her hand, Hermione retreated to her best friends of all, her books.

Hermione sat up in bed looking around eagerly at her pitch-black dormitory. The only place light was prevailing was a small patch on the Gryffindor rug from the slight open window.

"Justin?"

Jutting out her hand, Hermione went to grasp her wand. Her breath caught in her throat and a slight scream squirmed free from her mouth as she was pushed back into the mattress. A hand was firmly grasped around her neck and the point of a wand was thrust harshly into her ribs.

"Didn't think I'd leave you alone that easy, did you?"


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

Hermione was gasping for breath under the weight on her throat. The unknown voice petrified her to the point of tears as she was turning and fighting on her back. She needed light, and she needed her wand. Hermione scratched at the hand that held her air and it was finally released. She took a large gasp, ready to scream for help, but a hand harshly muffled her mouth.

"Lumos," said the voice. Hermione saw the illuminated features of Draco Malfoy before her. Strangely enough, her muscles relaxed, and her tears ended. "You made me bleed, Granger," he hissed. "_Silencio_."

Malfoy removed his hand from Hermione's mouth as she tried to bite him. She cried silent tears lying mutely, still with fear and anticipation. Malfoy no longer had his wand pointed at her chest, though he had both her wrists held in one hand. Hermione tried speaking but became angered at the lack of words issuing from her mouth; she looked to her side for a wand but it wasn't there.

"Looking for this?" asked Malfoy. He held her wand before her mockingly as she pulled free from his grip and tried to snatch it; Malfoy answered by magically binding Hermione's wrists behind her back. She pulled senselessly against the ropes until she decided that it was no use. Flopping her head back on her pillow, she laid stiffly, staring at Malfoy. He stared back.

The light issuing from Malfoy's wand was revealing his dark grey eyes and malicious sneer. He was smirking casually yet delightedly, as though he was looking down at a pile of shining gold gallons. He stared and stared at Hermione as she looked up at him. Her big brown eyes were vividly gazing into his and her chest was heaving heavily, trying to relax from the recent scare. Her mouth was latent; she would open it every now and then as though to say something, but remembered that she had no voice.

"If I let you have your voice back, will you scream?"

Hermione stared for a moment, her chest still heaving. She lazily shook her head as Malfoy pointed his wand. "Untie me," she ordered.

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Why are you here? Just leave me alone, go somewhere other than my dormitory, or leave Hogwarts all together!"

"I don't want to. If I leave I'll be killed."

"And you'll be killed if you stay here. If I had my wand I'd be happy to do it right now –"

"But you don't have your wand," pointed Malfoy. He lit the lamp near Hermione's bedside and the whole room was bathed in a light golden glow. Malfoy rested a knee on either side of the helpless girl lain on the bed and sat his weight on her, staring down. A tear trailing down Hermione's cheek and indiscriminate strands of her hair were catching the light and shimmering attractively.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione fearfully.

Malfoy was staring at Hermione eagerly; her mouth was shut tight as she was fervently evaluating his behaviour. She looked terrified, not knowing what to say or do. Staring at his tattered robes and the scar below his eye, Hermione was reminded of the day only weeks ago when she found herself in Malfoy's mansion. He was meant to kill her; perhaps he was about to go through with it once and for all.

"Don't kill me," she said hurriedly.

He smiled eerily. "I'm not going to kill you." Hermione had known Malfoy for the past six years, although not in the friendliest circumstances, but nevertheless she could notice that there was something wrong with him; he wasn't quite there. She knew him well enough to know that he would never save her from death, or even touch her skin when trying to restrain her. The Malfoy she knew would magically bind her in ropes and then kill her with an Unforgivable Curse. It was as though the fact that Hermione was a Gryffindor, and most importantly a 'Mudblood', hadn't yet occurred to Malfoy.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" Hermione repeated urgently. "Look, I can help you," she told him. "I won't tell anyone you're here and I'll help you get food occasionally."

Malfoy didn't look like he was listening. He threw both wands on the bedside table, and then resumed looking at Hermione avidly. She was wearing a tight violet singlet that praised her curves and brought attention to how cold she was with the covers off. Malfoy inhaled hungrily. Although he was sitting on Hermione's waist, he knew she wasn't clad with much clothing below. "I don't know," he whispered in delay.

"Don't know what?"

"What I'm doing." Although his voice sounded troubled, he looked completely complacent. "It's you," he said softly. "You're using magic, aren't you?"

"Malfoy I'm not doing anything! Just get off me, you're delirious!"

Hermione began struggling once again, trying to force the bonds from her wrists. She cried with frustration as Malfoy held her down tightly. 'Malfoy, let me go. Don't make me scream," she told him.

"Don't make me muffle you."

Silence reigned for a moment until Malfoy laid a palm flatly on Hermione's heart and watched as she looked slightly alarmed. He trailed his palm down onto her breast, using the tips of his fingers ardently and then symmetrically placed his other hand on her opposite breast. Hermione was now crying profoundly but silently, and struggling to release her hands. She needed her wand; she needed Ron or Harry, or even Ginny. Tears were streaming down her face so hurriedly that her sight was blurred. Although she could not see what Malfoy was doing, she could undeniably feel it; he grasped Hermione's chest firmly making her cry out in pain.

"Malfoy, what are you doing," she cried. "Let me go, I'll help you. Something's wrong with you, I'll help you figure it out –"

Hermione's words were silenced as Malfoy surrounded her lips with his. Tears were raining down her cheeks… though she had forgotten why. As Malfoy passionately pursued Hermione, she got carried away in the feeling. It was something new to her, something Ron nor anyone else had ever supplied her with. Malfoy took a moment to pull away from Hermione and stare down at her with wide eyes. 'What's happening?' he thought.

Hermione was staring back at him. She was overwhelmed in the recent feeling, yet somewhat disgusted with what was happening. Her mind was frantic with ambiguous thoughts; her brain was pleading for her to try and escape, yet her body wanted her to stay where she was. Hermione let her body relax as Malfoy retouched his lips to hers. This time he was gentler and Hermione fell away with the feeling once again.

Suddenly it was as though Hermione just woke up. 'Ron!' she thought. Panicking, she tried to push off Malfoy but it was incredibly difficult moving with her arms restrained behind her back.

Malfoy was insatiably experiencing every part of her body. He was staring down at Hermione impatiently, watching his hands as they trailed her curves, from every rib to her thigh. Tears began flowing senselessly as Hermione felt so violated. She tried unbinding herself countless times until she suddenly felt her wrists part. Pulling her arms out from underneath, her shoulders relaxed from strain.

As she was about to push Malfoy off, he kissed her once more. His warm breath brushed the surface of her lips and she shivered and closed her eyes, driving her head back into the pillow. Her hands were now free by her side, but soon enough they were on Malfoy's back cascading down his shoulders to his ribs. Hermione couldn't help but feel utterly disgusted in herself, yet the feeling he was providing was overwhelming. Her mind was telling her to kick and scream, but her body just layied there wanting to be violated. She kept thinking about how repulsive she thought Malfoy to be, his pale hair, repugnant smirk and snare. But looking at him in a new light, she couldn't help but find him to be oddly alluring.

"I knew you'd warm up to me sooner or later, Granger," Malfoy breathed in her ear.

Turning Hermione's head to the side he trailed his lips down from behind her ear eventually stopping to bite her viciously. Hermione cried out in pain – perhaps a little too loudly.

Malfoy had just forced his hand over Hermione's mouth as a knock sounded at the door.

"Hermione, are you okay?" said a voice.

Before Hermione could notice what was happening, Malfoy was gone. Lying in bed with the sheets scruffy below her ankles, Hermione took a sharp intake of breath and readjusted her clothing. She peered around the ground for Malfoy as she answered, "Justin?"

The door opened slightly and Justin Finch-Fletchley poked his fair head in. "I heard you scream from next door, are you okay?"

Hermione breathed a laugh of exasperation and doubt. Was she okay? She most certainly wasn't. Her head was swimming in questions, answers, feelings and tempers. She didn't know what to feel or think, let alone do or say. "I'm fine," she lied, "I just had a bad dream." Justin looked to the left and then right of the dormitory before nodding and giving a slight smile. "Sorry to have woken you," she added. Hermione smiled uneasily.

"Try to sleep well…"

Hermione turned to look at her bedside table and noticed that there was only one wand resting there. She peered around the dimly lit room until noticing that the door was closing once more; black robes were fluttering through. Once the door was shut, Hermione let out a short sigh, took her wand and locked the door with all the charms she knew of.

It was hard for Hermione to sleep through the rest of that night. She was petrified still, scared that Malfoy would reach from the darkness and have his way. She felt sick to her stomach and so violated. She cried and cried until the pain left, and then the nausea would surface. The mere thought of Ron and having to face him tomorrow made Hermione feel even worse.

When the sun arose, gradually seeping through the window, Hermione was staring deliriously at the wall. She had no clue where to go from here, or who to tell. At some moments in re-evaluating, Hermione hoped with all her heart that Malfoy would reappear so she could kill him; though in some other instances, Hermione wished he would reappear so they could finish what they started…


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

**  
**

"Lucius…" breathed Voldemort, "Lucius…"

"My Lord –"

"Don't bother, Lucius," he hissed. "I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses."

"I can fix this –"

"No, Lucius, you cannot _fix_ anything. You merely wish not to be killed." A broad and eerie smirk arose on Voldemort's face as the surrounding black-clad circle sniggered. Lucius surveyed the formation of Death Eaters before him, all of which he knew had substantial grins behind their masks. He had fallen from most powerful of Death Eaters to the least. He was ridiculed because his son was weak-minded and not nearly heartless enough. "Although," continued Voldemort, "maybe we could arrange _something_…"

Lucius' mouth twitched. "Yes?"

"Find Draco and bring him to me," Voldemort said simply.

"Bring him to you?"

"You of all people should be able to find him. You're his father. I have no time to waste tracking down a failed Death Eater. I have more important things to worry about."

"I'll try, my Lord."

"No, you won't try. You will succeed."

Lucius looked directly into Voldemort's eyes. "Yes, my Lord." And before Voldemort's eerie stare could delve too far into Lucius' vision, he Disapparated as far away as possible.

"Ginny, have you seen Hermione today?"

"She's your girlfriend, Ron, why haven't _you_ seen her?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me where she is."

"If she's not in the Library, she might be in her dormitory."

Ron stared at Ginny momentarily. "Where's her dormitory?"

"Sixth floor," she said. "Behind the suit of armour– say 'Erkling'."

"Which suit of armour?" asked Ron excitedly.

"There's only one on that floor. Good luck."

Ron traipsed to the sixth floor. It took him almost half an hour to search the entire floor for a suit of armour; once it was found, Ron excitedly entered. He took the set of steps slowly, dreading what he would find behind Hermione's door. Everyone and anyone that knew Hermione knew that she'd never miss class if she weren't severely sick. This meant Ron would have to comfort her in some way – and Ron wasn't the best at issuing comfort.

"Hermione?" He knocked lightly on the door. No answer. "_Hermione_? It's Ron."

Ron heard the door shudder as charms were murmured from behind; turning the handle, he peeked his head through and took a glimpse at the large mound in the middle of the bed.

"Hermione what's wrong?" Ron approached carefully until he came to sit by the lump in the bed; he pulled back the covers slightly to see Hermione's bushy hair and large eyes poking out from below. From what he could see, Hermione's face looked red and blotchy. "What's wrong? Why did you have so many charms on the door?"

Hermione sighed and popped her head out further from under the covers. "I just didn't feel very safe last night."

"But you're in Hogwarts. There's no reason not to feel safe." Hermione didn't respond; she merely stared. "You should've come to get me," continued Ron. "I would've slept with you if you liked." Ron suddenly looked alarmed at what he'd said. "I mean, slept by your side." He cleared his throat.

Hermione couldn't find it inside her to smile. "Thanks Ron, maybe next time."

"Is that why you didn't come to class today?"

Hermione tossed in the sheets to make herself comfortable. "I just didn't get enough sleep, couldn't really handle classes today."

Ron laughed slightly. "I feel like that every day." Hermione noticeably didn't respond once again, even with a facial expression. Her face kept porcelain still and white, and the dark circles under her eyes glimmered. "Do you want me to leave you alone? You don't seem too motivated to talk to me."

Hermione merely looked into Ron's eyes, not concentrating on what he was saying. She couldn't help but feel sad and guilty. "I just need to get some more sleep," she said in monotone.

Ron left with a kiss on Hermione's forehead and Hermione answered with a very slight smile. Charming the door once again, she retreated to under the covers, the only place she could hide from Ron and the terrible guilt she felt inside.

Ron found Harry in his dormitory; he was poring over a gigantic brown and dusty book.

"I have an idea of where to find another Horcrux," he told Ron as he entered the room.

"That's great!" said Ron.

"If only Hermione would help me, I could leave sooner."

"I don't think you're going to have much luck with her. She's acting mental." Ron scooped a few chocolate frogs out of his trunk, unwrapped one, and threw another into Harry's lap. "Since when have either of us known Hermione to spend a day in bed because she 'didn't feel very safe last night'– it's insane."

"Did she say why she felt unsafe?" asked Harry.

"I don't think I asked…" Ron said quizzically as he took a hefty bite from a new chocolate frog. "I offered to sleep with her," said Ron absent-mindedly, "or next to her, you know."

Harry laughed loudly as he slammed the book shut. "I suppose she didn't take that the right way?"

"I don't really think she took it any way at all– she was acting strange."

"I'm sure she'll be fine tomorrow." Harry slung the enormous book under his arm and headed towards the door. "I'll see you later."

Hermione had spent all day in her bed. She felt lazy, lethargic and immobile, but most of all, she felt scared. She hadn't had anything to eat all day and felt weak. The second she heard whispering, she thought she was delusional, though she listened a little closer and found she was, in fact, sane.

"Hermione, can you let me in?" she heard. "It's Harry."

It took a moment for Hermione to reach for her wand and un-charm the door, but after it had been done, she realised why she had taken her time.

"Harry?" The door swung open and then closed again, but no one was there. "Why are you wearing your cloak?"

Hermione gripped her wand tightly as the slippery cloak dropped to the floor and Malfoy stood before her.

"Get out of here," she said shakily.

"I need you to listen to me," he said desperately. Malfoy was glowing with beads of sweat and his robes looked dusty and more tattered. "I need to hide. I need _you_ to hide me."

"Why should I help you?" Hermione asked fiercely. "You attacked and _violated_ me." Tears were surfacing in her eyes. "_Why_?" she yelled.

Malfoy looked around nervously, as though someone might have heard. "Because I can't leave," he hissed frantically, taking a step forward, "I can't leave Hogwarts. I will be tracked down and killed. Not until Harry kills Voldemort and the Death Eaters – anyone on his side! I won't be able to leave these walls, I can't leave _you_."

"You can't leave _me_?" questioned Hermione. "You can leave _me_ whenever you need; you just can't leave Harry!"

"Same thing," mumbled Malfoy.

Each keenly stared into each other's eyes. Hermione was breathing deeply with her wand pointed ahead. "I don't want you anywhere near me."

"Well, you have no choice," Malfoy sneered firmly. His old-fashioned and usually abrasive manner was beginning to shine. Though he looked frail and weak, he was determined and eager. "I'm going to stay in your dormitory and you will bring me food." He approached closer. Hermione moved further towards the wall. "Two meals a day, three, if you have time without seeming suspicious, and last of all you will let me sleep next to your side – " Hermione opened her mouth to say something. " – and I will not touch you," pressed Malfoy.

"I don't have to do anything!"

"You will – "

"I don't understand why you think you can demand me to do these things – hurt me, and then demand more! Where do you find the nerve? Or does it just come naturally with the Malfoy name?"

"Let me ask you, do you think it would have been easier to walk into Harry or Ron's dormitory and ask for them to hide me? I personally think it would have been a lot harder, especially with the other three people that live within a ten foot radius!"

Hermione fell silent; Malfoy had obviously thought this through. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" Malfoy stared blankly. "You're a stubborn and selfish person. A snake. You don't deserve to live." Hermione rose from the bed for the first time in hours. She had found the courage to face Malfoy; he couldn't hurt her again. Moving in closer, she looked up at the over-bearing blonde figure. "You only care about yourself. You haven't even stopped to comprehend the effects of your actions, have you?" Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "All you care about is that you _couldn't_ kill Albus Dumbledore, but you know what? There's plenty of people who don't care about the fact you couldn't kill him, they care that he's _dead_." Hermione inched closer to Malfoy. He was arrogantly tall. "An amazing, if not the most amazing wizard of our time is dead for no reason at all – no wait, there's a reason– your initiation into the dark side! Are you happy about what you've done? Do you get a warm tingling sensation in your chest when you think about it?"

"Stop that," mumbled Malfoy.

"No, Malfoy," she fumed, "I want to know how great this makes you feel inside. Does it keep you up at night? Or haven't you thought of it since?"

"There's a reason I'm not with the Death Eaters right now," retorted Malfoy. "I couldn't kill Dumbledore, and I couldn't kill you. Despite what you think, I can't be cold-blooded. I may look it, I may be related to it, but I don't have cold blood." Hermione stared more avidly at Malfoy, keenly assessing his words. "And I do think about what has happened– I can't sleep at night. Despite the fact I sleep on a hard, cold floor, I can't get away from the thought that Dumbledore's death was somewhat my fault." Hermione shifted on her feet at the sincerity of Malfoy's tone. "And truthfully, I get a warm tingling sensation," he admitted, "…but it's in my pants, for you, not Dumbledore."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth dangerously; she pushed Malfoy harshly into the dense stone wall so hard he fell to the ground. Taking her wand from her side table, Hermione marched past the groaning figure on the floor and to the Gryffindor common room to find Ginny.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

"What the hell happened to you?" Ginny was folding a robe neatly beside her bed.

Hermione slammed the door behind her; she took five seconds to confirm that no one else was in the dormitory, and then began to rave like a lunatic. "Draco Malfoy is at Hogwarts and he's making my life a living hell," she heaved, "You have to help me get rid of him."

Ginny looked over her shoulder sceptically at the bushy brunette as she flopped on the bed. "I think you're a bit delusional. Weren't you sick today?"

"I'm not delusional," stressed Hermione. "He's hiding at Hogwarts from Voldemort." Ginny didn't say anything; she merely shifted through the belongings in her trunk. "Ginny! He wants to live in my dormitory; he's probably still there. You don't believe me, do you?" added Hermione at the sight of Ginny's cynic smile.

"I find it kind of strange. Why would Malfoy want anything to do with you?"

"Harry," Hermione said simply. "He's waiting until Harry kills Voldemort to leave Hogwarts."

"That might take him a while."

"Ginny," Hermione shifted to sit on Ginny's bed so she could keenly speak to her. "Tell me you believe me."

"It's hard to believe something like this, Hermione," admitted Ginny, "but I've never had reason to doubt you." Ginny moved closer to Hermione. "It kind of scares me to think a Death Eater is prowling around the castle."

"Me too…" admitted Hermione.

"You should tell McGonagall. I'll come, if you like. First thing in the morning."

"In the morning?"

"Just wake me up." Ginny began pulling her bed sheets back; Hermione was forced to jump up.

"You're going to bed?"

"I'm really tired, Hermione. First thing in the morning; I promise."

Hermione reluctantly dawdled out of the Gryffindor common room, and pondered about going back to her dormitory for a long moment. Her stomach indignantly dropped as she found Malfoy still in her presence.

"Why are you just sitting on my bed?" she fumed. "Anyone could just walk in here!"

Malfoy was lifelessly perched on the side of the bed; his head was drooped pathetically. Hermione slammed the door behind her.

"Get off my bed!" she ordered.

Malfoy's fair head moved slightly so he could view Hermione. She could see his pale face, all blotchy and red. His eyes were puffy and no longer glinting with malice as they normally did. This was perhaps the first moment in her life that Hermione had seen real emotion in Malfoy's face. He looked scared – petrified even. She found that was something she could relate to, and unfortunately it was Malfoy that had created that emotion in her in the first place. Her anger sparked as she remembered Malfoy's steely touch and unexpected warmth on her lips; and then lust suddenly became overwhelming.

"Did you tell anyone?" Malfoy asked shakily.

Hermione breathed deeply. "I told Ginny." Malfoy began to cry silently. Hermione inched closer and watched the tears drop to his lap.

"I can't be found," he sobbed. "You have to help me."

Hermione couldn't help but stare at Malfoy from above and think about how insignificant he looked for once. She stared eagerly until he grew aware of the silence and looked up to reach her gaze.

To both of their surprise, Hermione agreed. "Fine." Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "But I think right now you should try to find a vacant dormitory to live in - there's plenty, or even an unused classroom." Looking to the ground, Malfoy nodded slightly. "Or even sleep by the fire downstairs. Just look somewhere else before coming back here."

Malfoy took a moment to compose himself. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, stood, avoiding Hermione's stare, and then left through the door as invisible as he arrived.

Hermione awoke with a start. "Lumos," she whispered.

Malfoy trailed over to Hermione; his wand was also alight. "I found a vacant classroom in the dungeons but Peeves was floating around in there."

"Did you check the Slytherin common room?" asked Hermione sleepily. "Nox."

"I can't stay there," he stressed. "If anyone gets into Hogwarts that's the first place they'll look for me."

"No one can get into Hogwarts," argued Hermione.

"I did, didn't I?"

Hermione grunted lightly in disapproval. She transfigured a mattress at the foot of the bed, sheets folded neatly with a pillow at the end. "Sleep there," she told him. "In fact, take it to the common room."

Malfoy frowned. "What if Justin finds me?"

"Use your invisibility cloak."

"And if he trips over something large, invisible and moving in the morning?"

Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes again. Malfoy ignored Hermione in return and laid by her side. She turned to face him.

"If you touch me again," warned Hermione, "I'll kill you and go straight to McGonagall."

"And why didn't you do that last time, Granger?"

Hermione opened her mouth but closed it once she found herself to be lost for words. Soon after, Hermione fell into an insecure sleep. When she awoke, Malfoy was gone. She didn't see him again for almost two weeks, and even then, it was just a flicker of his robes as she was walking through the halls.

Malfoy was lurking in the halls, invisible and unseen. An upside to acting invisible was that he could watch people and learn. He was beginning to understand the behaviour of others – people he had deemed unworthy of his time in the previous years. He had now discovered that Neville Longbottom wasn't as dim-witted as he originally thought, for he spent much of his time in the library pouring over large books. Malfoy had also learnt of Luna Lovegood, a quirky Ravenclaw. He had discovered that she was perhaps even too insane for the magical world, as she'd stop frequently to begin conversations with people who weren't in fact anywhere to be seen.

The one person that Malfoy had learnt plenty about was Hermione Granger. She was becoming a part of his everyday life, even though she definitely wasn't aware of the situation. He had discovered a new side to the bushy haired Gyffindor he'd despised in previous years. He'd found that she'd often smirk after finishing a novel, and every day before dinner in the Great Hall she'd look out of her window into the grounds. Most importantly, Malfoy had learnt that Hermione was lucky to have dodged all the curses and hexes Malfoy sent her way.

Sometimes the urge was too overwhelming, and it was impossible for Malfoy to control his own wand. It wasn't a secret to Malfoy that something in him wanted Hermione dead, although it also wasn't a secret that he didn't want that at all. It seemed expected when Malfoy became overwhelmed with rage and shot a hex squarely into Hermione's back, it came as a surprise, however, when he took Hermione under his cloak and returned her to her dormitory to prevent further harm.

The Head Boy and Girl's private bathroom was an ultimate luxury that very few had the pleasure of experiencing in their lifetime. It was bliss having to share your bathing facilities with only _one_ other person, rather than the entire female population of Hogwarts. The small and leaky showers in the other bathrooms didn't compare to the amazing facilities in the Head Boy and Girl's bathroom. The shower was a large, circular, dormitory-sized room,paved in glowing white tiles, and a large showerhead hung from the centre underneath antique piping that descended from the ceiling. The fountain of water that ran from the shower was a warm jet – with such a large radius it could cover five times the size of Hermione.

This particular time was precious to Hermione, as she was rarely ever alone. Ron had become a complete nuisance and the constant guilty feeling in her stomach didn't help. Between helping Harry prepare for Voldemort, keeping up with schoolwork, and spending time with Ron, Hermione was in way over her head.

After only a couple of minutes under the shower stream, Hermione heard footsteps echoing around her.

"I'll be done in a moment, Justin," she called. But no one answered. Perhaps he was going to bathe.

Hermione's breath caught in the back of her throat as the tiled wall surrounding her magically parted, allowing for entrance. Wandlessly she stopped the stream of water and magically cast her towel around her body.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not Justin."

Hermione crumpled her nose. "Get away from me, I'm warning you, Malfoy."

"Warn me?" mocked Malfoy. "You've _warned_ me plenty of times."

"I didn't tell anyone else about you being here– the least you can do is leave me my privacy." Hermione quivered as the cold air brushed the water on her skin.

"Tell me," said Malfoy, completely ignoring Hermione's previous comment, "are you still with that pathetic Weasel?"

"Yes, Malfoy, I'm still dating Ron Weasley. Are you still stalking around the castle pathetically?"

"Does he touch you? Love you?" Malfoy walked closer towards Hermione's shivering figure. "Has he said that to you yet? I love you?"

Hermione moved on her feet awkwardly. "What – " she uttered, "what kind of question is that?"

Malfoy moved closer once again. "I love you," he said. "How does that feel?"

"It doesn't feel like anything, because I know you don't love me, and I most certainly don't love you."

"So what are you waiting for?" questioned Malfoy. "Why haven't you told Ron that you love him?"

Hermione's silence was perhaps a bit too prolonged.

"Don't worry," continued Malfoy. "I know the answer to that one."

Hermione grasped her towel firmly as silence prevailed.

"Want to see what I've been doing in my spare time?" asked Malfoy, with a steady smirk. "I mean, aside from trying to kill you."

"Kill me?" murmured Hermione. "Get away from me, Malfoy," she ordered irately.

But Malfoy didn't depart. He stood in place, dropping his robe to the ground, and then unbuttoning his shirt. Finally, he dropped his trousers. Malfoy stood stark naked, and all Hermione could do was stare.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

His skin seemed so see-through, yet not as pasty as Ron's; there was not a single freckle - it was a perfect tone. Veins shone though his skin, and his muscles were sculpted, portraying his slight strength. His masculinity hung free and it made Hermione's cheeks burn. Her stomach tensed in unwanted longing. Before Hermione could understand what was happening, Malfoy demonstrated what he had learnt by non verbally sending Hermione's towel flying.

Malfoy advanced on Hermione, taking his lips in hers. He took her in his warm grip and infused the stranded water beads from her soft skin into his. The jet of water started once again and both were drenched in warmth.

Hermione couldn't help but let herself be taken away once more by Malfoy's touch. It seemed that after so long acting so pure, she just wanted something more. Ron wasn't what she needed; he couldn't fuel her emotions and desires as well as Malfoy could. And the sinking guilty feeling that came with Malfoy's touch was beginning to diminish; it made the warm feeling that was forcefully embedded inside of her a hundred times more desirable.

Hermione's couldn't help be vocal as Malfoy continued to stimulate her constant longing by savagely biting at her neck… Hermione returned the favour.

At that moment, Justin Finch-Fletchley walked into the bathroom. His footsteps were light and unheard, and as he turned the tap on the basin the running water was silenced by the loud stream issuing from the shower. Unfortunately, there was no noise to muffle Hermione's moan: "_Malfoy_…"

"Harry, where's Hermione?"

Ron had poked his head through the dormitory door, hoping for a quick solution to his wonders.

Harry looked up from peering into the grounds. "What makes you think I keep better track of your girlfriend?"

Ron sighed and shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. "I know, I'm useless at this dating business," he grumbled.

"Don't be silly, Ron," weighted Harry. "Try the library."

"I've checked there." Ron stared for a few moments until Harry finally rose from where he was comfortably sitting, and offered to search the chilly castle with Ron.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later upon returning to the Gryffindor common room that Harry and Ron began to worry. Hermione had been gone an awfully long time without any notice.

Just before Harry went to climb in the Portrait Hole, he was stopped by a petrified Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Harry!"

"Justin, how are you – "

"Have you seen Ron," he blurted rather nervously.

Harry pointed to the closing Portrait Hole. "He just climbed in– would you like me to get him?"

"Yes, I mean no," stuttered Justin. "Don't worry about it Harry. I'll catch him some other time." And with that Justin was gone.

Harry suspiciously pondered for a moment before entering the common room. He found Hermione by the fire with Ron, arguing heatedly. Lucky for them, there weren't even four people in the common room at this hour.

"I can see it Hermione, I'm not blind!"

"Well, I think you are blind!" Hermione expressed intensely. "It's just a graze!"

"Hermione, I'm not stupid," fumed Ron. "Do you think I haven't seen a love bite before?"

Hermione threw up her hands and rose from being seated. Ron watched her tread heavily out of the portrait hole and disappear from view.

Harry took his time in joining Ron. He watched his best friend's pale, freckled face burn red; his hands were in tight fists and his eyes were beginning to glaze over with tears.

"Ron," said Harry. "Ron?" Ron still sat stationary, staring into the fire. Harry tried changing the conversation. "Before I forget, Justin wanted to speak to you– Justin Finch-Fletchley."

Harry watched as Ron still gazed, stationary, and began nodding slowly. "Justin," he murmured through a clenched jaw. Before Harry could blink, Ron was out of the portrait hole and descending down the stairs.

"Ron! Ron, wait!" Harry tried to chase after long-limbed Ron. "You're jumping to conclusions, Ron!" he called, "it was probably just a graze!"

But Ron was too fast for Harry, it wasn't until the sixth floor that he had caught up with him. He was shouting words at a suit of armour, which seemed to be standing stone still.

Ron swore loudly. "I don't know the new password."

"Ron, leave it. You'll be out here all night."

Ron stood fuming, perhaps even redder than before. Harry waited out what felt like five long minutes and then departed, listening to false password attempts echo down the hall.

Hermione was running through the halls late for class when she heard a loud bang from around the corner. Gasps and brief screams split the air.

"Ron, get off him!" screamed Harry.

Hermione watched as Ron straddled Justin Finch-Fletchley. He had a tight two-handed grip around his neck. Harry was trying as hard as possible to pull Ron off, but a Hufflepuff succeeded first by shooting a rough hex. Ron was blown into the wall and collapsed into a pile. Harry pulled him up and took a tight grip on his arm, ready for him to lurch.

"What is wrong with you, Weasley?" screamed Justin furiously. "You're _mad_!"

"You know perfectly well!" retorted Ron.

Harry began pulling Ron away before he said too much. Justin finally departed calling, "You're mad! You're mad Weasley!" And the rest of the crowd parted and slowly disappeared until only Hermione was left.

Ron gave her a steely look.

"Ron," breathed Hermione, "what're you doing?"

"Never thought you'd be the type, Hermione."

Hermione sighed and rubbed her forehead briefly. "You're jumping to conclusions."

Ron merely turned his back and walked away. Hermione's heart fell as the guilt finally set in; it worsened as Harry walked off with Ron. It may have just been because they shared the same timetable, but Harry seemed he wasn't too happy to look in Hermione's direction.

The door of Hermione's dormitory squeaked open and then closed. Hermione stared at the door through the darkness, unable to see anyone.

"Go away, Malfoy." Hermione turned over onto her side.

Malfoy dropped his cloak to the floor. "No," he sneered.

Hermione sat up in bed. "I'm not in the mood for it, Malfoy," she shot. "Ron almost tried to kill Justin today."

"Who wouldn't want to kill Justin Finch-Fletchley– he's an idiot."

"Ron thinks I've been cheating on him with Justin –"

"Why don't we correct him, then?" suggested Malfoy.

"I mean it, Malfoy," fumed Hermione. Tears swelled in her eyes. "Go away. I don't want to see you anymore."

Malfoy's sneer arose once more. "I should've killed you weeks ago," he spat. "Now you're not even useful."

Hermione pointed her wand fiercely. "Leave!" she shouted.

Malfoy looked behind him quickly. "Are you trying to wake that idiot?"

"I think it'll help both of us if someone else catches you."

Malfoy hurriedly scooped up his cloak and slipped away. Hermione locked the door.

Hermione heaved herself into an armchair in the Gryffindor common room; Harry and Ron soon joined – Ron more reluctantly.

"Hello, Hermione," said Harry.

"Hi, Harry," said Hermione with a slight smile; she couldn't bear to look at Ron.

"I'm leaving, Hermione."

Hermione looked up from her roll of parchment. "What?"

"I'm leaving on Monday for Godric's Hollow."

"You're leaving so soon?" exclaimed Hermione.

"It's been a month," argued Ron. "We weren't meant to be coming back to Hogwarts at all."

"I know…" mumbled Hermione

Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "You don't have to come, Hermione, I don't mind."

"Is Ron going?" asked Hermione.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Hermione sharply looked in Ron's direction. "Are you going, Ron?"

"Of course I am."

Hermione pondered slightly and then finally said, "Are you telling anyone that you're leaving? McGonagall?"

"No way!" protested Ron. "She'll never let us leave."

"Of course she will! She'll be so concerned if we just disappear."

"She must have some clue," argued Ron. "She's part of the Order– she's not completely unaware."

"Fine, fine, if you think so, Ron. I'm going to start finding things we'll need." And with that, Hermione exited.

It was Harry, Hermione and Ron's last dinner in the Great Hall, as they were to leave the next morning. Harry still seemed to be the mediator; he sat between Ron and Hermione. Ron had a newly improved sneer on his face and Hermione was sitting low, embarrassed to be seen. It was hard for her to feel hungry whilst feeling so guilty.

By the time dessert was ready to be served, Harry was so sick of trying to commence conversation he too became mute. The three of them sat in silence. As the dishes in front cleared of the remaining food, they soon refilled with all sorts of sweets. A blaring scream came from behind Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Turning around, Hermione was met with the shocking sight of Draco Malfoy. He was looking distressed and traumatized, perched on the Hufflepuff table in front of several stunned first years. Harry jumped up and pointed his wand aggressively. Professor McGonagall ran to the Hufflepuff table and did the same as Harry.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall, "please step down from the table." Malfoy had taken his wand from his cloak pocket. "I can assure you there's no need in holding that, Mr Malfoy. There's no need to use it."

"Then lower yours," he retorted.

"When you get down from the table."

Hermione was sitting back breathlessly watching Harry; he was inching towards Malfoy with a wrathful expression. Hermione couldn't help but feel immensely surprised. After so long in hiding the secret of Malfoy, it was finally exposed to the whole of Hogwarts. He looked terrified and on the verge of tears. Hermione couldn't help but feel empathy for him.

Malfoy shakily stepped down from the Hufflepuff table and stood in front of McGonagall. Without speaking a word, she bound him in magical ties so he couldn't move an inch of his body, and as he began to fall backwards she floated his body above her head and walked him out of the Great Hall. Harry and Ron ran out behind McGonagall; Hermione couldn't help but feel compelled to follow.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. All Harry Potter involved material belongs to J.K. Rowling.  
Thanks to Larkspur for beta-ing!**

The threesome finally caught up with the Headmistress as she reached her office – the gargoyle had just jumped aside.

"What are you three doing here?" shot McGonagall.

"I don't want to take my eye off Malfoy," argued Harry. "He's –"

"I think I'm perfectly capable of keeping my own eye on Malfoy, Harry." Several teachers had just arrived. "And now we most definitely don't need your help. Make your way to your common room. Miss Granger," she added, "please go down to the Great Hall and direct all the houses to their house common rooms."

"Professor," Hermione said hastily, "now that it's finally out in the open, I think I should tell you that I knew Malfoy was in the castle…" Hermione thought that perhaps she shouldn't have said that at all, as all the teachers murmured gravely and Harry and Ron both blurted, "What?"

Professor McGonagall's mouth became thin. "I think you should join me in my office."

"Professor – "

"You two as well," she told Harry and Ron.

"My Lord." Lucius was kneeling at his snake-faced master, uttering sweet flattery.

"Lucius," said Voldemort simply, "where is your son?"

"Well…" began Lucius.

"He's not here, is he?"

"My Lord, I've exhausted all possible places he could be."

"Oh, really," said Voldemort derisively. The other Death Eaters snickered. "Well, I've just received notice that Draco Malfoy is at Hogwarts, captured."

"Hogwarts?" repeated Lucius.

Voldemort nodded. And with that, Lucius was gone.

The Hogwarts gates weren't so tough to get into anymore. It seemed that Dumbledore was the heart of this castle, and with him gone, everything seemed to feel less magical. The hard part for Lucius was getting into the castle unseen. He had no clue where his son could be, but figured he'd start in the most logical place – the Headmistress' office.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, how you have been aware of Mr. Malfoy's presence and not told a soul."

"I told Ginny, Professor," admitted Hermione. She looked down at her fidgeting hands; truthfully she didn't have a feasible reason at all. She couldn't help but look at the rope-entangled figure behind the desk. He was floating upright, swiftly darting his eyes in every direction.

"Ginevra Weasley is not good enough, Miss Granger. You should have come straight to me. He could've severely harmed students!"

"It's him, isn't it," said Ron. Hermione braved looking at Ron in the eyes; they were glazed and hurt. "It wasn't Justin, it was him!"

"Ron, please…" begged Hermione.

"You don't deserve to live," Ron snarled at Malfoy.

Ron whipped out his wand, though just as he spoke his first syllable Professor McGonagall magically confiscated it. "Mr. Weasley!"

Professor McGonagall untied Malfoy's bonds with a flick of her wand, and each and every person in the office stared expectantly. He stood alert for a couple of seconds, as though there may be a chance he could escape, however he knew that wasn't possible in a room full of Professors and the famous Harry Potter.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr Malfoy?"

Malfoy didn't speak, though he looked to Hermione desperately. He had saved her life before; the least she could do was return the favour.

"Professor he's – he's different!" she exclaimed desperately.

"Are you joking?" asked Harry.

"He saved me earlier in the year from being killed by the Death Eaters."

Professor McGonagall's aged eyebrows rose slightly. "Just because he saved you, Miss Granger, does not mean he'd save any other soul."

Perhaps this was true. Hermione looked down to the ground once again and then eyed Malfoy. Perhaps it was lust that was controlling her words. After all, she didn't have any real feeling for Malfoy; just desire.

"I can't believe you, Hermione!" yelled Harry. "After all these years of torture and teasing, and you're willing to say Malfoy's different. Did he do something to you?" he asked. "Did he charm you?"

Before Hermione could answer, a large explosion erupted from the stairs below. As Professor McGonagall began to stride towards the office door, it was barged open by none other than Lucius Malfoy. Draco Malfoy quivered and simpered, hiding behind the Headmistress.

"Stand aside," Lucius ordered, "I've come to take Draco."

"Don't let him," begged Malfoy, "please don't…"

Professor McGonagall's wand was prominently pointed at Lucius Malfoy; all the other staff followed.

"What is she still doing alive?" asked Lucius, with a jab of his wand arm towards Hermione.

"I –" began Malfoy.

"Couldn't succeed once again," finished Lucius acidly.

"If you're talking about killing one of my students," voiced Professor McGonagall, but the rest of her sentence was drowned out as a large bang issued behind Lucius.

Another hex was shot and Lucius descended back down the stairs; the staff followed. Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed in the office staring at Malfoy; Hermione stood by him so he wouldn't be harmed.

"I don't believe you, Hermione!" argued Harry. "What is wrong with you?"

"Harry," said Hermione seriously, "I know we haven't got along with Malfoy in the past, but he's changed."

"Changed!" blurted Ron. He was furious. "Malfoys don't change!"

"He saved me from death! He's had plenty of chances to kill me," she told him.

"Well, there must be a good reason why he hasn't," pointed Harry.

Hermione looked to Malfoy. He was silent and petrified. His pale blonde hair was loosely messy and his robes were ruthlessly worn and dirty. He had food on him, perhaps from living in the kitchens, and for once he wasn't wearing an expression of repulsive smugness. Hermione turned back to Harry.

"I – I think he's under the Imperius curse."

Harry became frustrated and rubbed his head. "He's not under the Imperius curse!" he yelled. "He's perfectly fine, aside from the fact he's not shooting horrid remarks and hexes at us, he's fine and normal."

Malfoy looked to Hermione, ignoring what Harry had said. "How do you know I'm under the Imperius curse?"

"When I was leaving your mansion I heard your father."

"I don't remember being cursed," admitted Malfoy.

"And you shouldn't remember," Hermione told him, "it's part of the curse."

Harry rubbed his head exasperatedly. "Hermione, this is ridiculous. We have one Death Eater running around the castle, and another just standing in front of us, and we're not doing anything!"

"I'm NOT a Death Eater!" yelled Malfoy. Harry stood dumbfounded. "Is that too much for the famous Harry Potter to comprehend?" he sneered. "You may not believe this because I'm Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin, the son of Lucius Malfoy and your worst enemy, but I'm not a Death Eater. Everyone has a choice in this world," he told Harry. "You can choose good or bad. If you have a problem with that, then fine, but at the moment, I'm standing here on your side."

Silence prevailed for a few moments. "I think he's under the Imperius curse," voiced Ron.

Harry didn't speak for a while. He looked from Hermione to Malfoy and then exited the office. The three of them followed, chasing Harry down the halls. He was following the loud bangs and explosions. When they reached the ground floor, they found Lucius cornered by Moody, Lupin and Professor McGonagall. He was cowering ashamedly with his robes and hair askew.

"Can't believe you'd show your face," Moody growled at Lucius.

"Help me," Lucius hissed at his son. "Don't just stand there. I cursed you, you should be under my rule!"

"That's the strange thing about the Imperius curse," laughed Moody, "repeated use can cause different effects." He clapped Lucius on the shoulder abruptly. "And I don't think your heart was entirely in it, Lucius. I don't blame you for not being able to effectively curse your own son." He looked to Malfoy and smiled broadly. "Doesn't look like he's even Imperiused anymore."

Moody laughed once again and Lucius Malfoy graced his face with his familiar sneer. Suddenly he was placed into a magic unconsciousness. "Do I have to do the same to you?" Moody asked Malfoy.

"Moody," begged Hermione. But she didn't have anything to plead. She knew underneath it all that Malfoy was horrible, cynical, unforgiving. It was perhaps just the memory of his body against hers that fooled her into thinking that maybe Draco Malfoy didn't have such a black heart after all.

Harry, Hermione and Ron left first thing in the morning for Godric's Hollow. Hermione couldn't help but empathise for Malfoy. He seemed to have changed, but as the curse wore off completely, he'd become the same old Malfoy. It was just the Imperius curse that caused him to act as obsessed as he did. It made her wonder, at what point did the Imperius curse start to falter and fade? After all, the sole purpose of the curse, to bring about Hermione's death, never succeeded.

A month passed and the threesome was successful in finding two Horcruxes; they also had clues as to where to find the others. The venture together had taken its toll. Ron and Hermione were at each other's throats when they were talking, and when they weren't it was just uncomfortable for all three of them.

"I know you hate me," said Hermione one night, "but we should still have a friendship. We had a friendship in the beginning, and we should have one in the end."

"Hermione, you don't deserve my friendship."

Hermione became fiery once again. "You seem to think this was all my fault –"

"I'm not the one that slept with Draco Malfoy."

"Well, maybe you should have tried harder in our relationship."

"Probably should have, huh?" he said sadly. After that Hermione and Ron had a silent agreement not to talk about Malfoy or their relationship ever again. It seemed to be the only way they could get along, and it seemed they worked better in strategising when they were civil.

Their next stop after Godric's Hollow was the Leaky Cauldron; the three of them were to meet with part of the Order.

"Moody," said Harry, "thank God." He heaved himself into a chair. "It's good to see a familiar face."

"I thought you were travelling with Hermione and Ron?" he growled.

"They've become too familiar." Lupin placed a cup of tea in front of Harry as Ron and Hermione traipsed through the door.

They spent the night discussing the upcoming war, until eventually everyone departed to their own rooms for a well deserved night's sleep.

As Hermione went to shut her large, wooden oak door, she saw a tall familiar figure drift up the stairs. He stood in front of Hermione, staring provocatively. "Malfoy…" she said. Opening the door slightly, she took a step forwards. "What are you doing here? Aren't you meant to be in Azkaban?"

Malfoy seemed he was about to sneer, but he relaxed his expression. "I have a deal with the Order," he told her.

"What sort of deal?"

"A deal I can't speak of." Hermione nodded slightly. "My father's in Azkaban– I'm sure he'll be out soon enough, though. The worst is still to come, after all."

"So… the curse has been removed?"

Malfoy nodded slightly. "It was barely there in the first place…"

Herrmione couldn't help but smirk a little. "So, us… was that part of the curse? Or was that Draco Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked down to the ground before braving Hermione's dark brown eyes. Her eyes were his weakness. Although a faulty Imperius curse was what brought on this affair in the first place, without the curse, the lust was still there and the same emotions still existed. Malfoy took a couple of steps towards Hermione, ushering her through the door. "Why don't we find out," he told her.

Hermione closed the door behind her and once again took Malfoy's lips in hers. The longing was relieved and the lust was satisfied for the both of them. It was an even better feeling knowing that a curse had nothing to do with it this time. After six years, two different worlds had come together and it felt so right, or at least the desire did; it was unmistakably fucking amazing. 

**A/N: Thanks to anyone who reads/reviews this story. Keep an eye out for my next Dramione fic, it'll be up soon!  
**


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